


Mistletoe

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Fluff, M/M, soft blood drinking, yes i'm making this a tag now there's clearly need for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28128441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: I made a joke about blood drinking under the mistletoe.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> look, this is the closest you'll get from me that's in any way related to winter and whatever people tend to relate to this season. enjoy.

It was late when the mansion finally came into view. The snowstorm had gotten him stuck in town for longer than he had anticipated. And it was still snowing, the wind gentler, but not by much, as it blew the big white snowflakes into Gerry’s face. His face felt stiff from the biting cold by the time he finally reached the door and opened it.

It was freezing inside, as usual. Michael tended to forget to start a fire, he did not feel the chill. Or if he did start one, it would only be in the lounge. Gerry really hoped that was the case tonight as he rubbed his freezing hands together once he removed his coat, hat and scarf. He shivered and made his way to the staircase, trying to listen for any sign that Michael was awake. 

He could be completely quiet, but at home he rarely bothered. Gerry would sometimes hear him hum, or hear steps that would be soundless in any other context. Tonight, he heard neither. But when he reached the top of the stairs, light was coming through the open door to the lounge. Gerry smiled at the sight. He quickened his steps, eager to get close to the fire.

“You are back!” Michael was suddenly standing in the door frame, smile on his lips, silver eyes glimmering even in the dark. Gerry knew they did that on their own by now, but part of him still found himself wondering if maybe some of the orange light from behind Michael was catching in them. It certainly was in his hair, the white fabric of his shirt, making him look soft, warm. Inviting. “Caught in the snow?” 

Michael took him in, the cold-flushed cheeks, the melting snow in his hair. He looked cold.

“I did sit out the worst of it, but I did not want to wait any longer,” Gerry mumbled, coming to a stop in front of Michael since latter did not move from his spot.

Michael grinned, brushed Gerry’s slightly snow-wet hair behind his ears, delicately. “Missed me?”

Gerry rolled his eyes, grinned. He felt his shoulders relax, at the touch, at the warmth he could feel from the room. “You and the fire. May I get in?”

“Maybe.” 

There was mischief in his voice, and Gerry raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

“I wanted to try something out. It is popular with the peasants, I have heard…” He followed the line of Gerry’s jaw, gently tipped back his head, careful to not break skin with his sharp fingernails. 

Gerry let him, gave him a curious look. Michael motioned for him to look up, so he did, only to see something hanging from the door frame. It looked to be some sort of plant, green leaves and white berries. 

Gerry frowned. “What is it?”

“Mistletoe. You are supposed to kiss under it.” Michael explained.

“Why?”

Michael shrugged. “I did not ask, only observed.”

Gerry chuckled. That did sound a lot like Michael. “What happens if you don’t?” 

“Do you want to find out?” Michael pulled away his hand, stepped to the side with a smile, just enough for Gerry to fit through the door. 

Enough to let more of the warmth from the fire through. Gerry sighed, but did not step inside the room. He turned towards Michael instead, wrapped his arms around his neck with a grin. 

He looked up at those silver eyes, now definitely illuminated by the light of the fire; warm and strangely hypnotic. 

Gerry pulled him closer, pressed their noses together. His own still felt icy and Michael’s was warm, probably from being inside the heated room. Michael did not have much body heat of his own. One way or another, it made Gerry sigh blissfully. 

“Hm...first, we can see what happens if we do,” Gerry mumbled, leaning in to press his cool lips to Michael’s warmer ones.

Michael smiled, wrapped his arms around Gerry’s waist and kissed back. Gerry buried his hands in Michael’s hair, loose as it often was when he was at home. Gerry loved it, loved running his fingers through the soft curls. His fingers were still a little stiff from the cold, but Michael was unbothered by the feeling of them against his scalp, hummed against Gerry’s lips, appreciatively. 

One of Michael’s hands made their way up Gerry’s back, warm through his shirt, making Gerry shiver. It came to rest on the back of Gerry’s head, tilted it back to deepen the kiss, nip at his lower lip. It was cracked from the icy wind, not quite bleeding, but close. Michael traced it with his tongue, humming at the faint taste of blood.

Gerry chuckled. He recognised this move, the cadence of that hum. “Hungry?”

Michael leaned into Gerry’s hand as he cupped Michael’s cheek, traced the freckles on it. “A little.”

“Anything about  _ biting _ under this thing?” Gerry asked, nodding up at the mistletoe.

“I did not observe any, at least…” Michael chuckled, brought his hand to the cravat around Gerry’s neck, a question in his eyes.

Gerry nodded, brushed a curl behind Michael’s ear. “Go ahead and try, if you want.”

Michael smiled, slender fingers making quick work of the knots, movements familiar. He  _ had  _ been the one to tie it in the morning. He dropped the fabric on the floor, carelessly, but Gerry did not get to complain as Michael pressed another kiss to his lips, short and sweet. Gerry sighed into it, tilted his head to the side. 

Michael brushed some stray strands of hair from his neck, still a little wet from the snow, then brought his hand to the back of Gerry’s head to steady him. Gerry’s eyes fluttered close as he felt Michael’s lips against his jaw, down his neck, a trail of kisses, feather-light. He felt Michael’s other hand push his shirt to the side, fingers soft against his shoulder, pleasant.

Gerry barely felt the bite itself by this point, more of a short moment of awareness rather than pain when the fangs pierced skin. It had been a little uncomfortable in the beginning, but now he let himself relax, knowing that Michael would keep him steady, indulging in the familiarity of Michael’s lips against his neck. It was a comfort now, really, not a discomfort, and Gerry sometimes marveled at that. Not today. Today he simply enjoyed Michael’s arm wrapping around his waist again, pulling him closer. He leaned into the touch, the faint warmth, and sighed.

Michael pulled away after a moment that could have been a while, Gerry wasn’t sure. He was a little light-headed when he felt Michael’s tongue lick the rest of the blood from his neck - some had probably spilled over, it always did. Michael at least took care to keep it from reaching Gerry’s shirt - aware that Michael was doing more to keep him upright than Gerry himself was. Gerry blinked his eyes open as he felt Michael’s hand gently navigate his head back into a less straining position. Michael was smiling at him, traced his eyebrow with his thumb.

"You're alright?"

Gerry nodded, returned the smile with a slightly woozy one of his own. "’Think I prefer when I can sit."

"Mhm, might be better. But I got you." 

Gerry wasn’t exactly sure what happened next, but Michael lifted him off the floor, slowly, and then Gerry’s head was leaning against his chest as he blinked up, lazily, at Michael’s red-stained lips. He'd like to kiss them but he felt incredibly comfortable, cradled in Michael’s arms, so he did not move. 

Michael walked to the plush sofa in front of the fireplace, let Gerry get comfortable in his lap. Gerry was felt warm now, cozy, but Michael’s face was closer than a moment before so it did not take much for him to lean in for a kiss. The metallic taste was familiar, and Gerry smiled against Michael’s lips. Michael hummed, loosened the ribbon in Gerry’s hair to rake his fingers through it properly, to help it dry in the heat of the fire. He picked up the blanket from the other end of the sofa and draped it around Gerry’s shoulders, wrapped his arms around him again.

“Comfortable?” he mumbled against Gerry’s lips who had kept close.

Gerry nodded, buried his hands under Michael’s shirt. He pressed his nose into Michael’s neck with a sigh. “Incredibly comfortable.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need to stop turning every joke into a fic, probably.


End file.
